Alphabet Accused Of Harming Children

The Alphabet That Time Forgot: Britain's Radical 1960s Reading Experiment

Decades ago, a bold educational trial occurred within UK schools. It sought to revolutionise how children acquire reading skills by inventing an entirely new alphabet. This initiative, which involved thousands of unsuspecting schoolchildren, left a complex and lasting legacy. For many, it cast a long shadow over their educational journey and beyond, raising profound questions about pedagogical innovation and its human cost. The radical venture aimed to boost reading skills but ultimately left a generation grappling with the consequences.

A Daughter's Discovery

For her entire life, Judith Loffhagen has been a devoted reader. She frequently juggled membership in several book clubs at once, eagerly read the texts her children studied at school, and kept a nightly journal. The family fridge was a testament to her love of words, adorned with a rotating display of word cards. Despite this deep immersion in literature, a baffling contradiction remained. Judith was, by a significant measure, the poorest speller one could imagine.

Her struggles were apparent even during her daughter's primary school years. Judith would often ask for help checking her professional correspondence, which was commonly riddled with errors a child could easily see. The paradox was puzzling. How could a person who consumed several books weekly and quoted Shakespeare flawlessly struggle with basic spelling? It was during one such occasion that Judith first spoke of being taught a "wrong" alphabet as a child. She called it ITA, a trial that was now defunct.

The Ghost Alphabet

A little research confirmed Judith's fragmented memory was no fiction. A search revealed a peculiar chart with over 40 symbols. Some were familiar, but many were alien, appearing as a curious hybrid from English and Greek alphabets. Judith’s memory, though hazy, retained vivid images of what she called “those devilish characters.” She could still trace the shapes of an 'a' with an 'e' attached to it and two 'c's intersected by a line, symbols that had confounded her childhood.

This was the Initial Teaching Alphabet, also known as ITA, a radical and obscure educational trial. It was tested not only in Britain but also in other anglophone nations during the 1960s and 70s. Promoters billed it as a way to speed up a child's reading ability by creating a more logical phonetic spelling. It fundamentally changed literacy standards for countless students, almost instantly, before vanishing without explanation, leaving a trail of unanswered questions.

An Audacious Solution

English is one of the most difficult languages to master in its written form. Unlike languages such as Spanish or Welsh that have consistent letter sounds, English orthography is a chaotic patchwork of linguistic inheritances. Its roughly 44 phonemes—the distinct sounds of speech—can be spelled using various combinations. The long "i" sound, as in the word "eye,” has over 20 different spellings. This inconsistency creates contradictions, with letter combinations varying wildly across words like "through,” “though,” and “thought.”

Sir James Pitman, a Conservative MP, pinpointed this issue as the primary hurdle for young learners. In a 1953 parliamentary debate, he argued that England's illogical and nonsensical spelling was the primary handicap that caused so many children to falter. He believed this had enduring detrimental effects on their whole schooling. The solution he presented six years later was audacious: a complete reinvention of the alphabet.

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The Pitman Legacy

Sir James Pitman's role extended beyond politics; he inherited a tradition of orthographic reform. His grandfather, Sir Isaac Pitman, invented the famous Pitman shorthand, a phonetic system that revolutionised secretarial work. This family history deeply influenced James. From his early years, he was immersed in his grandfather's ideas about simplifying the alphabet. He saw the inconsistencies of English spelling not just as an inconvenience, but as a fundamental flaw that hindered mass literacy.

Driven by this conviction, Pitman took his campaign to Parliament. He used government statistics from 1950, which showed that a quarter of children were leaving primary school as poor readers, as ammunition. He successfully argued for new trials with phonetic teaching methods, gaining the consent of the Minister of Education. His vision was to create a medium that would remove confusing elements from the initial stages of learning, hypothesising this would prevent failure.

The Logic of the Letters

The result of Pitman's crusade was the Initial Teaching Alphabet. The system consisted of 44 distinct characters, each designed to represent a single sound, thereby avoiding the irregularities of standard English spelling. Two letters from the conventional alphabet, 'q' and 'x', were dropped entirely, as other letters could represent their sounds. The 24 retained letters were assigned specific, consistent phonetic values. These were supplemented by 20 new characters, many designed by the Monotype Corporation to resemble existing letter combinations, such as 'sh', 'th', and 'ee'. All sentences were written in lowercase to further simplify recognition.

The design was meticulous. The goal was not merely to establish a phonetic system, but to enable a straightforward shift to conventional spelling later. The new, strange letters were meant to be stepping stones, not an everlasting substitute. The characters were made available in a single Roman font, Monotype Ehrhardt, to ensure a consistent appearance for young learners.

A Classroom Revolution

Following a press conference at the University of London, the research project for the Initial Teaching Alphabet officially launched in September 1961, with tests beginning in twenty UK schools. The project, carried out by the University of London Institute of Education, received funding from the Ministry of Education. The adoption of ITA spread with surprising speed. By 1966, an impressive 140 out of 158 educational bodies in the UK were using ITA in some of their institutions, and by the end of 1965, over a thousand schools across the UK were using the new medium.

This rapid rollout was remarkable, especially considering a national curriculum did not exist then. A headteacher had the autonomy to introduce ITA in their school, or an individual teacher could choose to use it in their classroom. This led to a patchwork application, where some schools, or even just certain classes within a school, used the experimental alphabet while others stuck to traditional methods.

The Promise of Seamless Learning

The core premise of ITA was that it would act as a temporary scaffold for young minds. It was never intended as a lasting substitute for the traditional alphabet. The goal was to help children grasp the fundamental connection between sound and symbol quickly and confidently. The promise made to educators and parents was that around seven or eight years of age, children would shift "smoothly" from the simplified system to traditional orthography. The theory was that once a child had become a fluent reader in ITA, moving to standard English would be a simple adjustment, not a complete relearning.

Early reports seemed to validate this optimism. Many teachers in early primary grades noted that pupils instructed with ITA progressed faster than their peers using conventional methods. Teachers frequently commented that ITA allowed children to make a strong start, learn more quickly, and find greater pleasure in reading.

The Transition Trap

Despite the initial positive signs, the seamless transition promised by ITA’s creators often failed to materialise. This critical stage proved to be the trial's undoing. Many children, including Judith Loffhagen, were trapped between two conflicting systems of logic. The skills they had mastered in the world of ITA did not always translate to the inconsistent terrain of conventional English orthography. Professor Dominic Wyse of University College London states that ITA is now widely regarded as a trial that was unsuccessful, with the transition being the primary problem.

Children were essentially forced to re-educate themselves on the actual, irregular principles of English. This created confusion and frustration. Furthermore, because pupils transitioned at varying stages and speeds, many teachers were left managing two alphabets concurrently in one class, a logistical nightmare that undermined the effectiveness of both systems. This difficulty was a key reason the experiment ultimately failed.

A Lifelong Shadow

Judith Loffhagen’s childhood was in 1960s Blackburn. As a gifted student, she advanced a year, entering secondary school ahead of schedule. She has no memory of ITA being introduced as an experiment; it was simply the method she was taught. She explained she was unaware of any alternative, or that she was meant to graduate to a different system. Her struggles with spelling have been a lifelong burden. "I'm nearly 60," she explains, recalling the constant red rings of correction on her schoolwork.

Although English was her preferred topic, it soon turned into a source of embarrassment. She remembers the intense fear of reading before the class and fumbling over words. The most crushing blow came during her A-levels, when her English teacher told her she would be prevented from getting an A due to her spelling. It was a devastating assessment for a student who loved the subject so passionately.

Shame in the Classroom

The psychological toll of the ITA experiment is a recurring theme among those who experienced it. Sarah Kitt, now 60, was taught ITA at her state primary school in Plymouth. Her memories are clouded not just by the strange alphabet but by the emotional strain it caused. She hated English and remembers bursting into tears at the school gates, so overwhelmed that she would turn around and walk home. She felt profoundly unintelligent and questioned if she had dyslexia.

This feeling of being intellectually inadequate was compounded by unsympathetic teachers and the realisation that her peers were being taught differently. When Kitt moved to Exeter at age nine, she discovered her new classmates had been taught the conventional alphabet from the start. This created a sense of otherness and a need to hide her difficulties.

Masking the Struggle

Faced with a different system and the fear of being seen as "stupid," children like Sarah Kitt developed coping mechanisms. One simply learned to hide it, she explains. This often meant finding clever methods to evade spelling tasks, choosing simpler words, or structuring sentences to circumvent potential errors. This constant vigilance and avoidance shaped her academic and professional choices. The experience put her off humanities, subjects she might have otherwise enjoyed.

Before the era of computers brought the relief of spellcheckers, the masking continued. At university, where essays were handwritten, Kitt depended on her mother to check her writing. This dependence was a practical necessity but also a constant reminder of the disadvantage she felt. Her story illustrates how an early educational hurdle could have far-reaching consequences, influencing a student's confidence and academic trajectory for years to come.

From Humanities to Banking

The long-term impact of the ITA experiment can be seen in the career paths of some of its former pupils. Discouraged by her struggles with English, Sarah Kitt pursued economics and statistics at university. She later had a career at the Bank of England spanning over ten years, a position in which her numerical skills were paramount. Her experience highlights how a negative early learning experience can steer a person towards entirely different fields.

As a mother now, Kitt is cautious about educational trials that might endanger children. She reflects that today, parental influence is stronger. "People would be questioning it in WhatsApp groups." This modern connectivity stands in stark contrast to the 1960s, where such decisions were often made without parental consultation or transparency.

A Betrayal of Trust

For some, the sudden change from ITA to standard orthography seemed like a deep betrayal. Mike Alder, a former pupil at a Blackpool school, remembers the transition vividly. He was a strong student in math and science but struggled with English. He recalls the little cardboard books with their odd, welded-together letters. At first, he accepted it as normal. Then came the sudden shift. It felt as if they were told they had been deceived for two years and were only now being shown the correct way to read and write.

That sense of being deceived, and the resulting erosion of trust in the educational establishment, stuck with him. His interest in English vanished after that point. Alder believes ITA directly affected his academic attainment, resulting in a C at O-level for English while he received A and B grades in his other classes. He remembers a classmate, also instructed via ITA, who needed to repeat English later on to advance academically.

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The Red Underline

Now 58 and working as a technical specialist at BAE Systems, Mike Alder’s career is a success. Yet, the ghost of ITA remains a daily obstacle. He depends heavily on spellcheck. He mentioned that an email he composed that same day had 15 to 20 percent of its words marked with a red underline. For decades, he assumed his experience was an isolated anomaly. When he tells people about the strange alphabet he learned, most were not aware of it.

His frustration is not just with the method but with the lack of accountability. "It's like it never happened," he says. He expressed a desire to see a formal report on its outcomes, questioning what was discovered and what conclusions were drawn. From his perspective, the trial was attempted, it was unsuccessful, and then it was silently discarded. He adds that if his own children had been subjected to ITA, he would have withdrawn them from the school immediately.

An Expert Post-Mortem

Decades later, education experts generally view the ITA experiment as a well-intentioned failure. Professor Rhona Stainthorp, a literacy development expert at the University of Reading, calls it an odd undertaking. She notes that Pitman was not an educator, and ITA is a classic instance of an individual with a noble concept attempting to streamline a complicated matter without grasping the practicalities of instruction.

Professor Dominic Wyse of UCL agrees, stating that any teaching that does not reflect the reality of the required learning is pointless. The core problem was always the transition. Children were not just adjusting; they were needing to re-educate themselves on the fundamental code of their written language, a process that created confusion and undermined the initial gains in reading speed.

A Teacher's Perspective

However, the story of ITA is not entirely one of failure. Some educators who used the system saw real benefits. Toni Brocklehurst, who instructed with ITA for four years in Lancashire, feels it provided a crucial advantage to many of her students. She worked with children from socially deprived homes, many of whom lacked books in their homes. After mastering the symbols, they could decipher any text written with it, she explains. This provided a significant lift to their self-assurance.

Brocklehurst does add a crucial caveat, however. She does not believe it would work for all children, particularly children from middle-class homes who were already familiar with books using conventional lettering, as it would cause confusion. Her perspective suggests that ITA's effectiveness may have been highly dependent on the child's background and prior exposure to literacy.

Correlation or Causation?

Professor Stainthorp also introduces an important note of caution. Although many past ITA students attribute their persistent spelling difficulties to the program, she points out that there is insufficient proof of a direct cause-and-effect relationship. "People who learned with ITA might blame their bad spelling on it," she says, but numerous poor spellers never encountered ITA, and conversely, some good spellers did.

Spelling proficiency is shaped by a complex web of factors. These include teacher quality, parental engagement, self-confidence, and innate ability. While a 1966 study did show that the initial reading advantage of ITA pupils started to diminish around the age of eight, it is difficult to isolate ITA as the sole cause of later spelling difficulties without a comprehensive longitudinal study, which was never conducted.

Beyond British Shores

The use of the Initial Teaching Alphabet was not limited to Britain. The experiment spread to other English-speaking nations, gaining a foothold in the United States, Australia, and Canada during the 1960s. Sir James Pitman himself actively promoted his creation abroad, and foundations were established in both the UK and the US to administer its use. In 1974, an ITA Association was founded in Melbourne, Australia.

However, its impact and reception varied. A 1974 study in a rural area of western New York found no significant difference in spelling achievement between students instructed with ITA and those taught with traditional methods. The study concluded that teaching these alternative sound-to-symbol patterns offered little ultimate benefit. Despite this, ITA continues to be used on a modest scale in several countries, including Australia, Canada, and the US, often championed by small groups of enthusiastic teachers.

The Experiment Unravels

By the late 1970s, the grand experiment had largely faded from mainstream use in the UK. No official order was given for its termination. Instead, ITA quietly disappeared from classrooms. The reasons for its decline were numerous. The ongoing issues with the change to standard orthography, the logistical challenges for teachers, and the absence of definitive proof of lasting advantages all contributed to its demise. The British ITA foundation eventually closed due to a lack of funds.

The informal and inconsistent rollout of the program also played a part in its downfall. With no national mandate, its adoption was left to the discretion of individual headteachers and local authorities. This meant no single authority existed to properly evaluate its effectiveness or address the problems that arose. The experiment, which began with such ambition, ended not with a bang, but with a whimper.

An Unexamined Legacy

The most significant failure of the ITA experiment may be the absence of a thorough follow-up. For an initiative given its scope and goals, a nationwide, long-term study was never carried out. No one officially tracked the educational trajectories of the students who were taught to read using this foreign-seeming alphabet. A formal investigation was never held into why the scheme was dropped, nor was a thorough report ever created to document its outcomes.

This lack of data leaves a void filled with anecdotal evidence and personal testimony. The stories of individuals like Judith Loffhagen, Sarah Kitt, and Mike Alder provide a powerful, human perspective on the experiment's impact. Their experiences of confusion, shame, and betrayal highlight the potential risks of top-down educational reforms implemented without sufficient research, oversight, and accountability.

Echoes in the "Reading Wars"

In many ways, ITA stands as a powerful example of a controversy in early education that is still debated today. The "reading wars"—the enduring conflict between various pedagogical approaches—is still active. This debate, which traces back centuries, broadly pits phonics-led approaches against whole-language methods. Phonics involves systematically breaking down words into their component sounds, while whole-language emphasises comprehension, context, and learning words by sight.

ITA was, in essence, a groundbreaking type of phonics. Its defenders argue its logic was not so different from the synthetic phonics methods now required in primary schools in England. But there is a crucial distinction: modern phonics works within the existing structure of the conventional alphabet. ITA attempted to impose a new, simplified structure, and it was this attempt to circumvent the intricate nature of English that proved so problematic.

The Modern Phonics Mandate

The debate over how to teach reading remains a contentious issue in education policy. In the UK, the pendulum has swung firmly towards a phonics-based approach. The government now mandates the use of synthetic phonics for reading instruction in England's primary schools. This move came after years of debate and research, including a landmark 2022 study from UCL's Institute of Education, which controversially found the contemporary focus on synthetic phonics was "uninformed and failing children."

This ongoing debate shows how difficult it is to find a one-size-fits-all solution to the challenge of literacy. The chaotic nature of English spelling remains a source of disagreement for specialists and difficulty for students. The history of ITA serves as a cautionary tale about the allure of simple solutions to profoundly complex problems.

Lessons from the Past

The story of the Initial Teaching Alphabet reveals the temptation to believe a complex problem can be solved with a single, simple innovation. The premise was seductively clear: the idea was to simplify reading English. But the cost of that simplification appears to have been paid for by a cohort of young people, many still dealing with the after-effects. The experiment highlights the value of thorough, long-term research before implementing large-scale changes in education.

It also underscores the critical need for transparency and parental engagement. As Judith Loffhagen notes, her generation was not offered a choice. "A person only has one education," she says, a simple statement that captures the high stakes of educational policy. Her resentment is palpable, not just for herself but on behalf of her parents, who trusted the system.

A Generation's Resentment

Fifty years on, those who were part of the ITA experiment are still piecing together what happened to them. The lack of explanation or apology has left a lasting sense of grievance. They were not presented with an option, they were not consulted, and the process was not explained, Judith Loffhagen states. For her, the quiet way the experiment was introduced and then withdrawn so discreetly is telling. The silence that followed its abandonment left countless individuals to deal with the fallout on their own.

Her final words carry the weight of decades of frustration. She would be enraged to find her own children were part of a trial without her knowledge. It is a powerful indictment of an establishment that, in its rush for reform, overlooked the very students it was meant to serve. The radical alphabet may be gone, but for many, the suffering continues.